Shattered
by JonManWrites
Summary: Is it possible to put it all back together, even when the pieces are missing? A new Halo-based story that follows the lives of those who work for Project S.P.A.R.E, a joint-operations group tasked with recovering lost technology and assets in a post-war universe that breaks away from the events of Guardians and into a uncertain future against threats both past and present.
1. Prologue: Correspondence

FROM: CODENAME DIRE

TO: HEAD OF PROJECT S.P.A.R.E, Dr. Andrew Davis

SUBJECT: WHEREABOUTS OF PROJECT 'ARTEMIS'

/START FILE/

Dear Doctor Davis, I have only heard great and glowing reports coming out of the Moro Research Facility on New Cebu.

As the current head of the joint service operation known as Special Projects Assessment, Recovery, and Evaluation, you have overseen the recovery of important assets and lost war materiel on the behalf of the UNSC, the Office of Naval Intelligence and many of the major civilian and military contractors who are essential to the survival of the human race.

I am particularly impressed by the recovered assets that have recently evaluated and incorporated into projects such the newer generation of power armor for the SPARTAN IV program and the Air Force's upgrade and refurbishment program for their interceptors and transport vehicles. It appears that the decision to expand Moro's testing and fabrication capabilities was indeed a wise decision with a man such as yourself at the helm.

However, none of recovery missions so far have brought back any assets from the project that you were interned to before its lost during the invasion of Skopje, Project HADES.

For all of the retrospective flak that it gets from our small community of intelligence officers nowadays, it was a solid and well-thought concept that was on its way to acceptance and mass production during a desperate period of time in the war: a cheaper, stronger, and a less ethically charged alternative to the SPARTAN program that could utilize assets already in use by the program such as armor and special weapon developments.

It had everything poured into it: priority funding, the best scientists and researchers in their respective fields and an advanced production facility, and yet internal feuds that only you truly know about are what brought it to its knees before the invasion sealed the project's fate.

Until now, it was assumed that most of the major assets and personnel were lost, including both project co-heads, Doctors Hawkwood and Robinson, and that you are the only surviving member of the project that is in possession of copies of all the documents, plans, and schematics that were on hand before your "reassignment" to other projects such as the improvements to combat-ready prosthetics for the SPARTAN program.

However, it is with great pleasure that I can inform you that the story didn't end there.

Scouts working under my jurisdiction have compiled a report (attached to this communication) that provides strong evidence of not only the survival of Dr. Robinson and HADES, but also the survival of the secondary project code-named ARTEMIS.

The short version goes as follows:

While it appears that Dr. Hawkwood did indeed die during the invasion, the director of another project that has since been shut down and investigated had sent his operatives to the planet sometime after the glassing, recovering what they could, including what we are to assume were all of the assets related to the ARTEMIS project.

During their digging through, they discovered security footage and logs (of which were recovered from a recent raid on a storage facility on Earth) that indicate that Dr. Robinson managed to escape with HADES assets, though there is nothing to indicate where she and the project escaped to after getting off the planet.

From this information, including reports made by one of your field officers during his time as an agent of section three, we have good reason to believe that ARTEMIS assets are in storage in a base that is located on a planet in your current theater of operation, this base being one of the most isolated UNSC facilities taken by the other project before its demise.

If you feel that the evidence I have provided is strong enough to warrant action, I would suggest sending out one of your scouts to the location first before committing to a full recovery operation, as I know your time out in the field is near its end for the season and your primary focus is to support the UNSC operation assaulting an insurrectionist-held world that which happens to be home to abandoned facilities that formerly belonged to major arms manufacturers including Hannibal and Misriah.

As long as this doesn't lead you to another dead end, maybe this will finally be the first real step in putting all the pieces back together of what could have been a true game-changer in the heat of the war.

/END FILE/


	2. Prologue: Reassignment

"Spartan. Wake up."

There was no response, an old man standing over the soldier's bed pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Spartan. Wake up. You have a visitor waiting to speak to you."

He shook him rather roughly, this time the soldier stirred, slowly turning over as he opened his eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them before giving the man a look, his expression annoyed.

"Get dressed and head to the meeting room on the upper deck near the bridge. There will be breakfast waiting for you there."

The man would leave him, watching him go, saying nothing as he stumbled onto his feet, doing as he was told.

Standing before the mirror, he looked at himself, eyes passing over the scars and medical wrappings that covered his body.

He stood tall for a sixteen-year-old, but shorter than most would expect for of a solider of his caliber.

Sighing, he would slip into a pair of lowly fatigues, for he had been stripped of his armor not only for medical attention, but because of this investigation.

He left the room he had been assigned to, a pair of guards following him, but he paid them no mind. His thoughts were on the words and accusations made of him, the past six days being the first he had since entering the cryo-tube he was found in… years.

When he arrived at the meeting room, he could smell a light breakfast waiting for him, the food sitting on the far end of the table furthest from the door.

He would sit down, beginning to eat, the shutters on the windowed side of the room beginning to open, revealing a warm sun and a glowing planet, its surface untouched by the horrors of a war that have destroyed many human-held worlds.

A war that he had missed.

He stared at it, his mind beginning to wander, his gaze focused on the huge formations of clouds that slowly moved across its surface, revealing continents and islands of all sizes, the land ranging from lush greens to golden yellows, it seemed like a nice place to live, so warm and inviting.

"Enjoying the view, Spartan?" said a female voice, the young man suddenly snapping out of it. Standing next to him were two officers, one of them being the old man who woke him, the one who has been trying to force a confession for things he could not remember doing.

The other officer was a shorter, much younger woman, holding onto a data tablet and a file with his name and number on it.

He stood up out of the chair, sending it to the wall as he stood at attention, saluting out of impulse, the other smiling with a slight chuckle.

"At ease." She said, the young man relaxing his stance.

"What is your name?"

"M…Mark." he said quietly with some hesitation, the other officer grumbling.

"Speak up when your being addressed,"

"And when did I give you permission to speak, officer?" she said, turning to face him, her eyes narrowing to a stern stare.

"You have been holding this Spartan for crimes that he cannot remember doing at his own will. The medical and psychiatric reports are very clear about this."

The old man glared at her, not expecting the rebuke.

"You're overstepping your authority, Mam- "

She gestured to the guards in the room, the two men suddenly moving in and arresting the officer.

"Am I?" she asked, the other officer attempting to resist the guards, but to no avail.

"This is MY investigation. You have no right to do this!"

"As the personal representative of Admiral Osman of the council that runs project SPARE, I have the right to enact my own investigations and arrest those within not only working in SPARE, but those who threaten the integrity and secrecy of the daily work done by everyone involved in it."

"You have no proof!"

She walked over to him, a swift slap across his face silencing him for a moment.

"Your investigation is just a cover up for a favor you owe to an old comrade who is now considered a traitor to the office of naval intelligence. Does the code name DEBATER ring a bell?" She showed him something that the spartan couldn't see, remaining where he was as the old man growled.

"Where the hell did you get that?"

"Why should I tell you when you clearly have intents you don't want to tell me about?" she looked to the guards, gesturing.

"Take him away. I will deal with him later."

The man growled, cursing at her and the spartan as he was dragged out of the meeting room, leaving them alone for the time being.

"Now then," she said, turning her attention back to the young man.

She gestured for him to sit down, watching Mark do so before she pulled up a chair to sit down next to him at the table.

"Spartan B-168. Is that correct?" she asked, passing him a folder with his name on it.

"Y…yes."

She nodded, pulling up the contents of the file on her tablet, her eyes looking him over for a moment.

He seemed shy and nervous, nothing like the other S-IIIs she had worked with in the past. He had more in common with S-IIs, a certain aloofness that made them feel uncomfortable around other soldiers whenever they were off the field and in the barracks.

"I have read into your files… well, whatever we have that wasn't deleted. Can't say whether or not if it was the officer's doing or something from the previous administration."

He nodded, looking at the contents of the file he was given: a profile, some old medical examination results, training data, but nothing else, not even a combat record.

"So, do you remember your specializations?"

Mark thought about for a moment, looking up before looking back to her.

"Scouting and Close-Quarters Battle."

She raised a brow, surprised by how specific his reply was.

"Do you remember anything else beyond your basic training?"

Mark seemed to shrink in his chair, shaking his head.

"No Mam."

She only nodded, the cheery expression she had upon entering the room had returned, a hand reaching out to his shoulder.

"Relax. You're clear for now, the case is being closed as we speak."

He looked at her, almost retreating from the touch before nodding, sitting back up in the chair.

"I apologize for allowing that man to get as far as he did with his little charade. He had joined the crew of this ship on its way back from a three-month tour with the location of the wreck that we rescued you from. We didn't know what was really happening until yesterday."

He only nodded, his eyes staying on her, the officer now offering him another file, this time it was marked with an emblem with the acronym she used earlier, her mouth opening to speak, her tone reassuring.

"I have an offer for you, Spartan. A chance to start over."


	3. Chapter 1

_May 2560_

_Recovery Operation Leto_

"Jonas how far are you from the base?"

"About half a kilometer. You said it's at the edge of this forest, right?"

"Yes, it should be visible once you get out of the thick of it all."

"Any updates on that threat assessment from two hours ago?"

"Negative, the recon drone we sent out hasn't reported anything new beyond a few rebels that were passing through. Time's wasting, so make it quick."

"Roger that."

Jonas looked around to see his partner sitting down against a tree, his head resting against his knees, his rifle sitting next to him. They had been waiting for over an hour at their current position, as their mission was timed to take place during a support and recovery operation that the rest of their unit was taking part of elsewhere on the continent.

"Is he taking a nap?" asked the mission controller over coms, Jonas sighing as he moved over to his partner.

"Break's over Mark, get up." He said with a stiff tone, tapping him a few times with his boot until he stirred, the other groaning as he slowly looked up.

"Check your weapon and let's move. Faster we get this done, the better."

Mark did as he was told, getting up without another word, stretching a bit before he picked up his rifle, checking it as Jonas gestured and led the way, moving down the hill at a jogging pace, their HUDs constantly scanning for anything that could be hostile in the area.

There was very little chatter on the way, something that Jonas had to get used to when working with Mark, for the two Spartans couldn't be any more different from each other.

One is a Spartan IV, his service to the newest branch of the UNSC voluntary, graduating from the first class of IVs and tasked with the investigation of a project that by now was a sour memory for all of those involved.

The other is a Spartan III, a generation made up of war orphans, trained and augmented and usually put into semi-powered infiltration armor, with only a chosen few deemed worthy of donning MILJNOR armor.

They hurried to the abandoned base, the jogging pace becoming a sprint, which ended when they made their way inside, the doors closing behind them as Jonas approached a terminal to begin locking the place down and download a map of the facility. Mark kept the rear guard, keeping his weapon up and scanning the room for hidden threats, for the moment however everything seemed quiet.

"According to the map, there should be a cryo-bay in the storage wing. From there we should be able to get our transport out of here via the hangar bay and out to the airstrip."

Mark only nodded, Jonas setting the waypoint and leading the way, raising his rifle up as they proceeded carefully through the abandoned corridors, the distance to the target shrinking with each hallway searched.

"How's the search going, Spartans? Any luck?" chimed the mission controller, Jonas replying as they entered the storage wing.

"Were approaching the cryo-bay, I'll call in once we get inside."

"Roger that, just make it quick-"

The coms degraded into static, a warning beeping in Mark's HUD: their normal coms were being jammed.

"That's not good." he remarked plainly as he began to activate the backup coms, minutes passing as he searched for the secure emergency channel.

"This is Alpha team reporting in, can anyone hear us?"

There was a slight silence as they made it to the cryo-bay, Jonas opening the door as the reply came.

"Yes, we have you." The connection was crackling, but clear, the controller continuing to speak.

"Something or someone is interfering with the regular frequencies, local scanners and oversight have also gone down."

"What do you mean local oversight has gone down?" Jonas asked as he began to work the terminal to open the cryo-bay.

"The drone we sent out to provide overwatch in the area just went dark. Someone wants into that base, and they wanted to be as quiet as possible."

"Should we assume the worst then?" asked Mark, watching Jonas's back as the door opened up.

"Yes. Hurry up and find the asset, otherwise you might have to fight your way out of there."

"Understood."

Jonas sighed, mumbling to himself about getting some upgraded equipment as they began to search the cryo-bay, their design different from standard units: each one had viewing panels that were opaque until they were accessed the main access terminal, the viewing panels one by one turning clear, one empty pod after another… that is, the last one revealed a figure lying in state, a name coming up on the terminal's screen: Artemis.

Mark looked to Jonas, the other raising a brow as the former wired him through the secure frequency.

"Target identified as Artemis, is this what we're looking for?"

Again, a slight pause before the frequency crackled with a reply, this time it was from their boss.

"Yes, it's her. Activate the pod and bring her online, I want to speak to her immediately."

Jonas nodded as he looked to see Mark walking over to the pod, staring at the figure inside: a young girl wearing what looked like a tech-suit with stream-lined armor plates directly attached to it... as if it was a part of her skin.

The plates were colored green, her hair a shade of black, long, and slightly messy. However, the most noticeable feature was a large, orb-like device that seemed to be embedded into her chest.

"What are you waiting for? Activate her pod and let Davis talk to her."

Mark followed the order without another word, accessing the pod's terminal and starting up the thawing process.

As the pod went through the thaw, the lights in the girl's suit began to glow, as well as the orb in her chest. It began to beat rhythmically with a vibrant green, the pod door finally opening as she began to stir.

Her eyes opened slowly, seemingly not at all dazed by her surroundings. She shifted around a little bit, sitting up inside the pod before the two soldiers, staring at them with a neutral expression upon her face.

Mark stood there in awe, the importance of what they had found beginning to dawn on him, as he was told practically nothing useful about what they were to bring back, his orders simply being to follow Jonas as soon as they linked up.

He tried to use his bio-scanner to check her vitals, but to his confusion there were none. Instead, a different set of vitals appeared, ones that seemed more in line to a machine's status indicators than the human vital signs he was used to seeing.

"Hello, how may I be of service?"

Her first words to them came out hollow and metallic sounding.

"Artemis, can you hear me?" said the voice from Mark's helmet speakers, the girl tilting her head before nodding.

"Doctor Davis."

"Yes, it is me." He said with a sigh of relief.

"What is your status?"

The girl's eyes seem to glow for moment, the orb in her chest flicking before she replied.

"Basic systems are at 90%, normal operating systems and mainframe are offline due to rapid thawing process and will require a manual reset to restore functionality. Backup operating system is online and ready to follow orders."

"Backup operating system?" Jonas questioned, Mark remaining silent as the reply came back through.

"You are to follow these Spartans to the evac zone. Stay close and they will protect you."

She nodded, her eyes glowing once again before picking up something off the floor, a worn-out plaid patterned green scarf that she had stepped over while exiting the pod. She put it on, wrapping it around her neck before looking at the two soldiers.

"I am ready to go." She said, Jonas nodding as he gestured for her to follow him, the three beginning to leave the room as they heard the sound of footsteps.

"I thought the base alarms were still active…" Jonas muttered, Mark checking for himself, the readings back suddenly flashing red.

"Looks like a lot more than that drone got hacked."

Artemis looked around, her eyes briefly glowing a bright red before she spoke up.

"There is a squad of twelve men approaching from the main entrance and closing in on our position. Permission to engage?"

"Denied." Jonas said as he took point, Mark taking the rear as they kept Artemis between them, the three moving quickly down the hall to the hangar-bay.

"This is Alpha team to Delta One-Nine-Zero we have the asset and require immediate evac. We are attempting to reach the airstrip via the hangar bay."

"This is Delta One-Nine-Zero, I read you loud and clear." The pilot replied, the radio still crackling with interference.

"Heading toward your coordinates now, ETA is five minutes from my current position."

"Do you have any visuals on enemy movements?"

"Negative, something's been jamming my radar and coms to command. Whatever the ground situation is, I'm sure I can handle it. Just give the word when you're ready, I'll figure out the rest."

"It's always going to be a fight whenever Davis is involved," Jonas replied as he closed coms, the three reaching the hangar via a door in a hallway next to a vehicle entrance.

"Is it clear?" Mark asked as he locked down the end of the hallway they came in, Artemis watching as Jonas peeked out into the hangar at the other end.

"No…" he muttered, turning on his scanners. To his horror, there were several squads of men, all wearing what appeared to be intentionally scrubbed ODST armor.

"Hangar's filled with mercenaries. The organized type, their weapons appear to be former UNSC. All standard-issue. There's a Pelican parked right inside the hangar door, it's blocking the entrance."

"Does that mean were boxed in?" Mark asked as Artemis looking around with her scanning ability before replying.

"There's an enemy patrol outside the sealed door and a few more around the perimeter."

"I think that's a yes-"

Suddenly a rifle was fired in their direction, the bullet ricocheting and missing completely, but the intent was true: not a step closer. They had been found out.

"Damn-it," Jonas muttered, Mark grabbing Artemis and moving back slightly as someone began to speak.

"I wouldn't make any sudden moves if I were you."

The voice that spoke sounded feminine, confident, if not slightly arrogant. Another warning shot was fired, the bullet ricocheting and whizzing past Mark's helmet, too close for comfort.

"I might just twitch."

Jonas looked around to Mark, who by now had Artemis behind him, just in case more gunfire was to come their way.

"What's the plan now?" he asked, Mark looking around before gesturing toward the enemy they were hiding from.

"Why me?" he asked with some annoyance, Mark only reaffirming his gesture as he backed up a few steps, Artemis staying behind him before speaking.

"They must think you're the only one here sir."

Jonas rolled his eyes as a gentle chirp echoed in their coms, his mini map showing a fleeting dot.

"Fine. We'll improvise."

He stepped out of the hiding spot, his weapons stowed, hands in the air.

"Okay, you have me." He said, a confident air in his voice as he stared down the enemy. His helmet-cam began to record the proceeding as the feminine voice spoke once again.

"Where is the cyborg Artemis?"

"Who?" he replied, getting into the act.

"I'm just a lone Spartan, sent out on a scouting mission to see if this old, worn-out facility might still be useful to the UNSC." He stepped forward slightly to try and get a better look at the soldiers he was facing.

"Who's this cyborg you're talking about? Do you mean another Spartan- "

His act was greeted with another bullet, this time it grazed the side of his helmet, damaging the helmet-cam.

"Clever little man thinks he can fool me." The voice chuckled. "One more lie I catch and the next one won't miss." Her men raised their arms, all aimed at Jonas.

"Fine, what do you want?" Jonas asked as the fleeting dot moved in, another gentle chirp going through the coms.

"How about a deal: hand over the cyborg to my men and we will let you and your friend go."

Jonas could feel the presence of more soldiers moving into the hangar-space from other entrances, but not the hallway he had come out of where the others were still in hiding.

"Or maybe you would be more interested in what I have to know." He said wryly, stepping back slightly as he could see behind the men the phantom outline of their ride out.

"But I digress… as in, danger close."

As soon as the words were spoken, the instantly familiar whine and crack of a non-linear rifle cut through the silence behind the men, cutting through their transport and blowing it up with extreme violence.

Jonas pulled out his rifle, dropping as many of the distracted men as he could before hollering to the hallway, hoping the others were still okay.

"We need to move, NOW."

The muffled sound of shots being fired and men dropping was followed by Mark coming out of the hallways with Artemis in front of him, his back to Jonas with a smoking rifle aimed at the hallway he had come out of.

"I'll keep you guys covered, just move toward the ship!"

Jonas nodded, the three of them moving as their gunship evac began to turn around to open its bay, a stream of soldiers beginning to come into the hangar to attempt to stop their escape.

"There's the asset! Stop them!" cried one of the soldiers as they began to fire onto the Spartans. The two soldiers returned fire, all while keeping the girl protected, the debris of the destroyed transport giving them cover as they made a break for their own.

"Don't let them get away!" hollered another soldier, his rifle firing toward Mark, breaking his energy shield as Jonas and Artemis ran up the steps into the pelican.

The S-III continued to return fire, however not without getting hits to his armor, a bullet grazing his side, another suddenly ricocheting off his helmet, damaging his visor.

Without flinching, he grabbed his grenades, throwing them all as he rushed up the ramp, Jonas covering him as their bird began to take off, its defensive armament taking over to suppress enemy ground fire as the pilot began to book it for home base.

"This is Alpha team to command, we have secured the asset, requesting escort for Delta One-Nine-Zero and for medical attention to be ready on return, we have a causality."

/-/-/

"They got away! You morons!" cried one of the squad leaders as the soldiers attempted to shoot it down with rifles, but to no avail, the suppressing fire keeping most heads pinned down.

When it was all over, the remaining soldiers gathered, many angered by how they had outsmarted by their enemy.

"How the hell did you all not see that thing flying in?"

"It was fucking invisible man!" said another solider, the squad leader growling.

"Since when did the marines get cloaking devices on their birds!"

"Hell if I know, must have been one of those Spook-operated ones. You know they hoard all the super-high-tech stuff to themselves!"

"But neither of those Spartans were ONI agents, trust me I've seen those bastards before! They don't wear armor like that!"

The argument would go on as the remaining men collected their injured and dying, the mission failed.

Nearby them, a woman stepped out of the shadows, her armor similar to their own, albeit lighter and sleeker than anything that would have been scavenged by the rest of the mercenaries.

She looked out into the sky, watching as a group of fighter aircraft joined the one that had escaped, an escort for the long ride home.

"Mam, our interceptors want to go after that bird, want to give them permission to pursue?"

She only shook her head, chuckling at the idea. Too risky? Maybe. But this battle was lost, they were long gone, and the last thing she wanted was to attract the attention of the entire UNSC to their presence.

"It would be a waste of time. Tell them to stand down for now."

The soldier only nodded, returning to oversee their own departure. The woman would turn on her coms, relaying a short message back to their command.

"SPARE got away with Artemis. We are regrouping and returning to base."

She turned the com off, not wanting to hear the reply, she already expected her boss's disappointment. However, something about that Spartan stuck with her, the way he spoke, his confidence.

It felt like he had heard his voice before, not in person, but from video footage and records from bases her soldiers have looted over the years.

"Well… hope you can give me more fun, clever little man." She mused to herself as their own transports approached the airstrip to pick them all up.

It was time to go home.


End file.
